Blood on the Horizon
by Elenwen's Daughter
Summary: For 7 years, Saber has been working hard to earn some respect in the Volkihar Clan of vampires in Skyrim. But now she learns she is going to have a new clanmate soon- and she will have to be the one to change him. After that, things become crazy, and Saber will be faced with a choice between her two fiercest loyalties. (Dawnguard DLC) Rated M for L, V, and mild SC.
1. Chapter 1

_I opened my eyes, my breath coming in in short gasps. My stomach burned with unexplainable hunger._

 _In front of me was a pale figure, the curves of its body muffled by dark robes that fell to the ground by its feet. The person's face and hands were the only exposed skin, all else lost in the suffocating blackness of the robes. On its face was a curled, red-lipped smile. The eyes matched the color, and had what looked like a ring of blood around its pupils. The face was narrow, and from what I could tell, belonged to a woman._

 _My suspicions were proven when it opened its lips and a low but distinctly female voice rang in my ears._

 _"Greetings." I could not help but stare at the strange woman, but even my hungry eyes were no match for the famished impatience of my stomach. I gasped in pain as my torso contracted, pulling me into a ball. I unconsciously started to massage it._

 _The floor underneath me was hard, though I felt no cold nor warmth radiating from it. My hip dug painfully into it and I sat up into a cross-legged position, still clutching my deprived abdomen. The figure chuckled and shook her head._

 _"My my, you must be hungry." I nodded desperately, glancing up at her scarlet eyes. If I had had enough sense to realize what she was...I may not have trusted her so easily. But against my usual well-fed instincts that would have screamed at me to get out of this sketchy situation, my starved instincts told me to do anything for food; even trust a suspicious woman with red eyes who was laughing at a starving teenager. They told me that if she was to give me food, she could be a mudcrab for all I cared; she would still look nothing short of a goddess in my eyes._

 _"What is your name, young one?"_

 _I hesitated a moment, my brain still focused on my famine. It refused to be distracted._

 _"Uh..." I hesitated, battling with my head. Come on, think you piece of- I finally remembered._

 _"Saber. My name is Saber." I said, relieved that I was able to answer before the woman became impatient. The last thing I needed was my only possible source of food to get angry and turn me away. I tried to resist thinking about hot, steaming bread and creamy soup... but oddly enough, when I finally slipped and started thinking of the delicacies, it didn't worsen the pain in my stomach like I expected. My mind wandered back to the present situation._

 _The woman laughed a cold, mirthless laugh._

 _"I can give you what you want." This is what I had hoped she would say. I scrambled to my knees and clenched my hands together, looking up at her._

 _"Oh, I beg of you miss, please help me!" I winced again at a fresh complaint of my belly but was able to keep looking at the woman. She laughed again._

 _"Oh, I will." I relaxed. My relief must have become apparent on my face, for her voice suddenly became sharp. "But not without a price."_

 _I wilted. "I-I don't have any money." I checked my pockets, just to make sure. The void in them only intensified the one in my stomach. I was wearing familiar oversized leather armor, covered head-to-toe with small nooks and crannies to hide items I had borrowed and didn't plan to return._

 _She raised a snowy hand to wave off my comment. "Money has no worth to me; I am far past the greed it strikes in the hearts of mortals." I shuddered, and not just because of hunger. She had an air of superiority to her, but that was not what had caused my reaction. Her choice of words, specifically mortal, were what had invoked the spasms of dread throughout my body. I hesitated, weighing my choices. Another set of tremors induced by my hunger reminded me bitterly that there was none._

 _She looked down at me on the floor, her eyes gleaming with delight. "I need a...service from you."_

 _"Anything."_

 _Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew promising this was dangerous. Who knew what she would ask me to do? But my whole being yearned to be free from this torture; the pain was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was not even completely sure it was hunger...just a tearing pain, ripping through my stomach to be heard. I gasped and started shaking again as a new wave of hurt swept through my body._

 _Her smile widened. "Excellent." She threw something at me; on reflex, I caught it. I looked at my clenched hand and saw the handle of a dagger protruding from the fist, the rest hidden by my thumb and fingers curled naturally around it. I saw a shiny red liquid start to collect slowly on the bottom of my hand, dripping from where the blade was obviously digging into my flesh. I felt no pain other than the steady complaint from my gut._

 _I opened my hand to let the blade clatter to the floor; instead, it hung to my hand like a burr, sunk deep into the meat and sinew. Only when I tugged it out did the barbs induce the slightest twinge of pain, though it was short lived, as was the gush of blood. As I looked at the crimson liquid, my stomach shuddered with lust, the same lust I had expected from the imaginings of food before. It made me tremor in revulsion to myself alongside my ravenous contractions, now intensified by the blood. Unable to control myself, I licked at the wound, only to start hacking and spitting it out in disgust; the bitter taste reminded me of poison._

 _I heard the woman clicking her tongue in disappointment. "Be patient, young one." I jumped slightly. I had forgotten of her presence. I nodded then asked in a shaky voice,_

 _"What do I need to do?" The woman smiled again and clicked her snowy fingers together. With a loud, gravelly sound, a section of the wall behind her slid into the ceiling, and behind it, from a dark room, stepped a wary man. My stomach twinged painfully, and I let out a low moan. The man's scent traveled to me, powerful and irresistible. It was all I could do not to leap at his throat. I looked at the woman, a sickeningly alluring suspicion forming in my head; I almost begged her to say the words I craved, that would give me permission to feed. I could sense the blood running in his veins; I was beyond disgust and wonder at this strange craving. I was desperate. And then, by some miracle, she issued the very order I prayed for: "Kill him."_

 _I had no time to think about my former innocence and inexperience with death, nor did I hesitate for a moment to spare remorse for the mouthwatering stranger. I simply sprung, leaving the dagger forgotten on the ground. My lust was controlling all my instincts, and my teeth unsheathed from my lips, letting loose a snarl that did not belong to my throat. I landed on his chest, and he fell to the ground. I did not waste a second, tearing at his throat with my teeth, splattering dark crimson on the floor. My head was spinning with hunger, and I latched onto the largest artery under his already soaking flesh. I sat pinning him to the floor, motionless other from the rhythmic heaving of my stomach as it accepted mouthful after mouthful of liquid life. After the flow of thick, gory fluid started to cease, I clenched my jaw tighter and jerked savagely away, hearing the flesh tear satisfyingly. I tossed my head to the side and let the chunk of flesh fly to the side and hit the stone wall with a dull thump. I stood up, panting yet feeling far from weak, and looked down at my prey with a surge of pride. I had figured out how to stifle the agonizing pain! I looked around, my head high, for the woman, but she was gone. I gazed back down at the body and felt a twinge of horror from my now-full conscience at the unrecognizable bloody mass of flesh, the head connected by only a small strip of skin. I did not turn to look at the rest of it, the part I myself had thrown across with my teeth. I started to tremble and backed away slowly, until I heard a splash. I whirled around to a small pool of water, and even in the dim light I could see the rippling picture of a young teenager. She looked much like me, except her fiery red hair was matted and damp with what looked like blood, but I could not tell, as it matched the hue of her long waves which curtained down to her invisible waist. Her usually green eyes glowed ruby, just like the stranger's. The front of her leather armor was stained dark with still-dripping gore..._

 _A drop of the said substance fell into the puddle and spread, turning the dingy water a cloudy russet color, retaining its former reflective texture as the picture distorted and tried to settle again, but barely. This woman was not me. Where was the innocent gleam to her emerald eyes? Her white-toothed grin beneath scarlet lips with flat teeth? In my grimace, I could see clearly the points on the end of my blood-stained teeth. Fangs, more like. No wonder I was able to tear him apart like that...I shuddered. But the worst part about this repulsive situation, was that I didn't care. I only felt bad because I knew I should. Any normal person would, right? In truth, I was just as pleased as I was right after the kill. And my belly seemed to appreciate my meal with its contented sighs. I was not stupid; even in the confusion of this hellish situation I had awaken to, I could tell what had happened. I just didn't know how._

 _Because vampires were supposed to murder, not change others on purpose. I wondered faintly if the woman had a grudge she wanted to make the man pay for, and she knew a young vampire would be sloppy with the job? I could not guess any other good reasons, nor did I feel the need to. And as spots started appearing on my vision and I became light headed, I could have sworn I heard malicious laughing ringing in my ears before the ground swung up to meet my eyes._

* * *

"Again." She ordered. I groaned.

"Why are we training to fight? We barely have to deal with more than an occasional mudcrab these days!" We were on a stone bridge, spanning from a small island to the large castle at my back. Modhna, a female Breton across from me, crossed her arms, the sword in her right hand swinging from her elbow. Her shoulder-length brunette hair floated around her uncannily pale face.

"Because if there _was_ an invasion, we would need to be ready." I rolled my eyes.

"Who would be stupid enough to challenge Harkon? The clan is bigger than any other. They would be begging for death, and you don't find many suicidal vampires around here." I saw her clench her teeth.

"Suicidal or not, they _might,_ and so we need to be prepared if they do."

"It has been seven years, Modhna, since I joined. In that whole time, there has not been one invasion!"

"Seven years is nothing, child." I bared my teeth at her taunting tone. It wasn't my fault I was the youngest vampire of the clan!

"Red! Mod! Court meeting!" I turned around to see Lokil, a dark ginger-haired Nord, calling out to us. I relaxed my stance and sheathed my daggers, both red and glowing with Daedric essence. They almost matched the hue of the irises of my companions, which were a bright ruby, just like mine.

I sighed briefly at my nickname, "Red", based off of my bloodily shaded curls, which stretched down to my hips.

I heard the rubbing of leather on leather as Modhna followed suit, then strode past me towards the castle.

"Very well. Tell Harkon we will be present momentarily." She told Lokil. I saw him nod then reenter the giant stone building. I forced my stride to match Modhna's, her longer legs presenting it as a challenge. My head came up to her ear usually, a product of my combined eternal teenage body and Bosmer blood, which made me small but lithe.

Modhna looked down at me, her pale face serious.

"Don't say anything stupid, alright?" I met her gaze, my own crimson eyes probably portraying the confusion I felt rising in my chest.

"Anything stupid? You mean at the meeting? You think I am new to this court?" I felt myself become slightly angry, and frustration bubbled under my snowy skin. It was not fair! No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't earn an ounce of respect for myself! Would I always be viewed as the young, inexperienced little girl?

She grumbled something inaudible under her breath, and I felt a surge of satisfaction for winning the short argument. We marched past the gate and the elderly Nord gatekeeper (whom I suspect is a thrall but I never found the time to ask). He quickly closed it after us, and opened the huge oak doors for us to get inside.

As we approached the dining hall, I could hear hushed voices whispering urgently. I had always had the gift of sharp hearing, so even from the slight balcony we had to descend from to reach the table, I could hear snatches here and there from the table.

"Isn't that dangerous..."

"We haven't had a new member since..."

"They say the..."

A new member, huh? I smiled to myself as we stepped down the spiralling stairs and took our places at the end of the table. Maybe my wish would come true, and I would finally not be the newest member? But what were they talking about, danger and rumors...? By the time I had been able to step a few feet away from the staircase, the group fell silent, which had left me to walk thoughtfully to my seat, surrounded by silence. I looked over to Harkon respectfully, my chin high. He swept his gaze across the table.

"My friends, I have heard rumors of a strange artifact in a certain cave called Dimhollow Crypt. I believe this artifact may be one of our Elder Scrolls." There was a collective groan around the table, which I did not join. I just stared at him intently, my chin propped on my clasped hands, a frown pulling at my lips. I had heard that a few hundred years ago Harkon became obsessed with this prophecy about darkening the sun forever. It was written in three Elder Scrolls, and as he became more intent in his search for them, it slowly tore his family apart. Eventually Velarica, his wife, took his daughter Serana and hid them both.

Harkon propped his elbow against the table and held his arm up vertically, his palm open as a calling for silence. The sigh immediately cut short.

"Please. I understand it may seem far-fetched now, but just imagine; an eternity without the vicious sun to scorch our skin!" I had to admit, it appealed to me. I could not remember how many countless times I had snarled at Magnus for burning my pale hands or face. There was a murmur of consent around the table, reluctant but accepting. They seemed to be thinking similar to me. Harkon smiled at the change in mood.

"Now, it has been awhile since we have welcomed a new member into our ranks." He turned his gaze meaningfully to me. The rest of the table followed suit. I looked back at them uncomfortably, a faint blush highlighting my snowy cheeks, barely making a visually noticeable change. After a moment all eyes wandered back to Harkon, who turned his scarlet glance elsewhere around the table. I felt myself relax.

Harkon continued. "I believe if we are to investigate this cave we will need to increase our numbers." I felt a smile curve its way into my lips. I would finally be higher in rank than someone, and perhaps earn myself some respect. I may even be promoted to a higher position in the Clan. After all, I put in a lot more effort than Modhna to follow orders to the letter. I deserved her spot better than she did herself.

The black haired-and-goateed ancient vampire turned to his right to the closest of his comrades: a grey-haired Altmer. "Vingalmo, you said you had someone in mind?"

"Indeed, sir. He is a young Wood Elf in Valenwood. I believe he will be a great addition to the family."

"Harkon, I would like to protest this." That was Orthjolf, a chestnut haired Nord and the closest to Harkon on his left. "I do not believe Vingalmo has the correct traits for a suitable new vampire in mind. Most likely it is another useless mage casting petty spells." I could hear Vingalmo mutter some inaudible profanity under his breath.

Harkon narrowed his eyes. "Vingalmo has proven himself worthy with his choices." He glanced again at me.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. After having joined the Clan, I was told that Vingalmo had been the one to pick me out. When I had asked who had changed me, he said that was "none of my concern". Bullshit.

I heard Orthjolf groan.

"Don't tell me we are going to have _another_ little kid join!"

I snarled softly at him. He ignored me, his eyes on Harkon, while frustration built up in my chest. Harkon frowned at him.

"Saber has been doing extraordinarily well. Better than you did in your first decade here." The frustration was quickly replaced with pride laced with smugness. I could see the same feeling lingering in Vingalmo's expression, the haughtiness more pronounced. I could hear Orthjolf gritting his teeth together angrily. It sent a wave of satisfaction over me to know he had been upset. Harkon smiled at us.

"Then it is settled. We will fetch this Elf tonight and introduce him to our world like we have every other new clan member." I shuddered, remembering my own initiation. It had been a bloody one, the bloodiest they had seen for ages, they had claimed. Newborns rarely ever used their teeth in the beginning.

I raised my hand respectfully, the black ebony stone of my daedric armor glinting in the faint candlelight cast by a lone flame in the middle of the table. It looked grey next to the flaming red of the daedric essence streaking it. I had convinced Hestla, a blonde Nord two seats to my right, to forge it for me when I had found a few daedra hearts and ingots of ebony on a hunting trip.

Harkon turned his head to me curiously. "Yes, Saber?"

I saw all the heads turn to me. I gulped and tried to make my voice sound clear and confident, despite the pressure. I think I did okay. "May I assist in welcoming our new clan member? I believe I will be able to empathise with him." It was true; my memory was still filled with the horror and excitement of being a newborn.

I heard Stalf, a blondish-brunette Nord sitting three seats to my right chuckle and whisper to Hestla. "Bet Red just wants a shot at the poor boy's heart. She is damn seductive, that one. Pretty too."

I shot Stalf an icy glare. I knew his suspicions were not baseless; I often was able to convince my prey to follow me after a bit of flirting. They never survived long enough to see if my promises were true. I suppose I may have a skilled tongue, but to be honest the men in some cities are practically begging to be tricked. The men taste better anyways; not to be sexist, but they generally work more and their blood is more fresh as a result.

I heard Hestla whisper back, "Ten Septims says he rejects her."

"You're on. That boy is gonna get his heart ripped apart."

I was so focused on their betting that it took a moment for me to register what Harkon said next.

"Saber, why don't you be the one to turn him?"

I blinked. What? I had never turned anyone before...

"It would be my honor, sire."

"Sir-" Orthjolf protested, but Harkon held up his hand to silence him, his eyes on me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

Harkon paused a moment, then turned to Vingalmo.

"Prepare everything. Do you think we will be ready before tomorrow?"

Vingalmo frowned. "Maybe. It may come close though..."

"Thats fine." I recognized the dismissal in his tone moments before he got to his feet. Everyone around the table followed suit.

I planned to confront Stalf and tell him that was _not_ my reason for asking, but I knew he would ask the real reason why I did. And to be honest, I didn't have one. No explanations really made sense with my impulsive demand. Maybe Stalf was right, that I had some silly loneliness I thought a boy could replace. I just couldn't make myself seriously consider it. I had never been a hopeless romantic, and had felt nothing but thirst when receiving drunked compliments from prey. Plus, I am sure the teenage hormones I would normally have that would make me become infatuated are dead, just like everything else about this body (in a non-literal sense).

But I could not deny the fact that a friend would be nice. Some of the vampires in Castle Volkihar tease me some but don't pay me too much attention. I would also finally have someone to hunt with; everyone in the castle refused since there was ''plenty for all here". I think having your prey handed to you without a fight is no fun. After all, they say the best part of a meal is the anticipation.

This was all based, of course, on the fact the Elf even liked me. I had never met someone that I could not bend in some way to think of me as an annoying little pest. Its not as if I was a young child. Not like they cared anyways.

"Hey, Red." I jumped at the sound of Lokil's voice, having been engrossed at my thought. I turned to look at him, a hand on my hip.

"What'chu need?" I asked, careful to make my voice casual.

"Just wanted to see what you thought about this turn-of-events."

I frowned. "Why?"

"Just wanted to know if your little body could handle it." He poked me teasingly in the ribs. But I could tell there was a deeper meaning in the question; I just couldn't grasp it. My brain felt exhausted... perhaps it was just overreacting. Was I becoming paranoid? I felt a dull throbbing start above my eyebrows. I wanted to reach my hand up and massage it, but I stayed still anyways.

I jabbed him back. "This little body could handle _anything_."

"Ow god damn it!" He rubbed the sore spot on his stomach and grumbled. "I see."

I grinned sweetly at him, then turned away and started to stride to my room, half expecting him to call out to me and explain the other meaning, and prove that I wasn't imagining things. I didn't hear a word though as I approached the wall next to the empty Bloodstone Chalice. I pressed the third grey rock to the left of the right side of the doorway and stood back. The wall slid open. I walked through then pulled on the steel chain on the other side, hearing the grinding sound of the rock replacing itself.

I looked at the now black-and-white room in front of me. There was a stone bed in the middle of the room that came up to my elbows. There were a pair of glowing iron cuffs attached halfway down the bed (vertically). I smiled at the blood that was smeared on the pale grey surface.

Next to it was a shelf, covered in rows of neatly assorted metal tools and such. Some had small blades on the end, some more than others in...viciousness.

In the back, hidden away cleverly in the corner as far away from the obvious stone bed as it could be, was a desk. The naked eye would skim right over it, mistaking it for another part of the ever-shifting shadows. But no one in the castle, I mused, had a naked eye. Not with Vampire's Sight anyways.

The desk had a few books stacked onto it, and a lonely chair pushed into it. That was my "study" desk. I studied the ways of Torture. The books were lent to me from Fura Bloodmouth, who suggested this "hobby" after getting tired of my endless complaints of boredom. Supposively she used to do it too before she joined the clan (and became lazy I might add). I have yet to try out my techniques on a person, although I have put quite a few Saber Cats out of their misery; after putting them into it.

I sat down in the chair and turned to the books, then opened one and stayed there all night, drowning my stress in written gore.

* * *

AN: Hey guys! I know what you are thinking: "Elly you bitch now your other one will never get done!" Well, thats not true, because when I am blocked on ideas for this one, I can go to that one! :D anyways yeah. Hope you enjoyed chapter one! Sorry if the beginning was too violent for you, I was mad at someone and just let the blood flow haha.

Also, I am aware that Vampire Lord eyes are usually yellow, but the idea of red eyes is much more appealing to me, so bear with me on this: all vampires to me have red eyes. Don't hate me you lore perfectionists haha I am just doing what makes me happiest so try not to judge too harshly. Anyways, Chapter Two is coming out soon, so be ready! Also, I love hearing from my readers, so please comment! Although you don't have to of course, and a follow and a favorite would be nice. 3 I try to write good stuff and so I want to know what you guys think! Also, I know how annoying typos are, so if you spot one just let me know and I will fix it right up. I am sorry if you don't think I am portraying the NPC's like you think I should, I am trying okay?

Thats it for now, bye!

-Elly


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked my eyes open to the bright light prodding at my eyelids. Above me was a candle, its sudden light causing me to squeeze shut my eyes again with a faint pinch of pain while I watched the imprint of the light dance and change from purple to green to blue as it glowed on the inside of my eyelid. I opened them again, cautious this time, and sat up so that I was protected from the blinding candle. In front of me was Lokil.

"Hey Red." He said. I blinked at him.

"Wha-" I looked at my surroundings. "Why am I in your room?" I looked at the familiar furniture: a display case to my left, with miscellaneous glowing artifacts within it, a pair of chains bolted to the wall to my right (Lokil shared my trait of prey alluring, although he let the process go much farther than flirting and was often found taking his prey into his room to ''play" with it before he fed. I have and probably never will completely understand why he didn't just eat it when he got it alone but I have always been too prideful to ask), and his wooden coffin, which I was currently laying in. I noticed my arms were crossed oddly and I self-consciously put them to my sides. I glanced up at the now-bearable light of the candle and saw it was perched just above the lip of the coffin, which was propped up vertically against the wall.

"How did you know this was my room?" He narrowed his eyes accusingly. "I have never let you in."

I realized my mistake immediately, and decided to tell the truth...somewhat. "I take walks at night." I said elusively, my mind racing. Lies had also been something I was proficient at, so a part-truth took only a split-second to form.

"Walks in which you just happen to pass by my room and see through the walls?" He growled. I shrugged. I didn't even know why he was mad; if he had gone into my room all he would see was my torture tools and maybe me sleeping...

"YOU went into MY room!" I said just as accusingly, with a hint of satisfaction I had been able to conjure a good retort.

"Yes, so?" He said offhandedly, as if it was not the same thing.

"SO, why were you?" I asked, a little frustrated. He chuckled.

"You are so easy to agitate."

"That doesn't answer my question." My tone was deadly. I guess I was a _l_ _ittle_ mad he had gone into my room.

"I was just checking it out." He said defensively. "I saw you were sleeping with your face on the floor and the rest of you in your chair, so I decided to give you something more comfortable to sleep in for once. Do you always sleep like that?"

"And just on the floor." I admitted, slightly embarrassed. He shook his head in exaggerated disapproval.

"You could have just put me on my bed." I pointed out.

"That hunk of stone? I personally would rather sleep on a live horker. You would be so stiff, not to mention sticky with that old blood. I don't know why you let that rot there, the smell almost made me heave." He made a face, and I rushed to distract him, afraid thinking back might actually make him be sick.

"Anyways, do you need something?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. "I guess not. Just... remember, when you change the boy, no matter how much you want to, don't feed."

I frowned at him. "Of course not. You act like I have no self-control. I will be fine."

His sudden seriousness surprised me. Why would I feed on the boy? I had walked next to hundreds of different mortals while I was starving and hadn't lost control. His concern, I told myself, was misplaced.

There was a loud knock on the door which startled me.

"Yes?" Lokil called out evenly, his eyes still on me. I shifted uncomfortably and forced myself to look at the door. It opened and Vingalmo stepped in, his expression furious. It was set on me.

" _There_ you are. I have been looking everywhere! For 'Bal's sake why can't you be easy to find for once?"

I tipped my head. "Do you something?"

" _Yes_ I need something! I need a new vampire made _within the hour_!" I flinched. Shit... I forgot about that.

I immediately rushed to Vingalmo's side. "Lead the way." I said. He looked at me for a moment, obviously deciding whether to yell at me more or start going, then turned around and strode out. I followed him, and I heard Lokil shout after me,

"Good luck Red!"

I felt a chill rush up my spine. _Lets hope I don't need it_ , I told myself. Vingalmo led me on a course I knew well. _Of course_ , I thought, _They are changed in the Cathedral_. We soon approached the gate, and Vingalmo pulled the chain with a pale hand. This single movement sent shivers up my spine, because I knew beyond this was the Volkihar Cathedral. I don't know why I was afraid. I had ripped many throats out before and seen blood in every way possible. So why, I wondered, did turning a mortal into a bloodsucking demon make me feel sick?

It was not that I felt bad; on the contrary, the Clan has given me everything I have, and the boy should consider himself lucky. No, it was because I was afraid I would mess up. Kill the boy instead of turn him. I have always felt confident in myself, but then again I always had known what I was up against. Now I was walking blindly into mystery, with only vague warnings to guide me. It made me shiver again. But part of me was excited. This obviously meant that Harkon trusted me much more, and so maybe I would be promoted to a higher-ranking part of the Clan? I was not too interested in politics, but I had ambition, and the thought of being Harkon's Right Hand appealed to me. I could finally tell everyone what to do, and mark my words they would never call me a child again. I could already imagine the power I would have...

And there he was. I saw him as soon as I walked into the Cathedral. He was curled into a ball on the ground, and I saw his amber eyes gleaming in the pale light thrown by the narrow windows set high in the back wall. He was close to the Shrine of Molag Bal with its perpetual bloodfall. Vingalmo halted, and I followed his lead. He looked down at me.

"You know what to do?" I nodded. Bite the victim, inject venom. Simple enough. He stepped back, obviously signalling me to begin. My mind went into a spasm of panic, but before a second had passed I was able to convince it everything was fine. I took a deep breath and started to inch forward to the boy.

At the sight of my advance, the boy was suddenly on his feet. He was dressed in what looked like a Vale sabre cat pelt, its unique green markings glowing in the dim light. I had only seen one other; it had been part of a Redguard traveler's posessions. Supposedly there was an extremely powerful bow in a mysterious cave which he had found. He had been searching for the bow when he met the sabre and decided to just head back and sell the pelt. I had decided then to save him the trouble; it had fetched a pretty price indeed, which helped pay for my meals for months. That was, of course, before my eating preferences changed.

The pelt was draped over his shoulders, and underneath it was tanned leather of a different Snowy sabre cat pelt, made into light armor underneath. It had a dull, light grey hue.

His hair was an auburn color and stuck up in all directions; I think it would come to his shoulders should it be straight down, maybe a little shorter. He was just as tall as me, maybe a little taller. On his face was a mix of fear and confusion, which I knew bred hostility. I realized I was in the shadows, and I decided to try to do this without violence.

I walked forward, slowly, my hands held up. I saw the boy tense, and something in his hand caught my eye; a small bone arrow. I stepped into the cold moonlight, and the boy gasped.

"A child?" He immediately relaxed and looked at me curiously.

I flinched. "I am as much of a child as Molag Bal is." I growled through my clenched teeth, irritation clouding my former plan.

"How so?" He tilted his head, all former hostility gone.

I sighed and calmed myself down, aware that this was the perfect opportunity to continue with my plan. After all, I must not fall prey to the victim. I chuckled under my breath at my inside joke. I smiled. "All in good time, young one."

The words brought a wave of power to me, and I was suddenly reminded of my own initiation once again. I was the mysterious figure, looking regal and proud. Although, I thought bitterly, she did not last very long according to Vingalmo.

"Where am I, anyways?" He asked, turning his head to each side. I could see his neck flex, and a small uncomfort began in my stomach. I should have eaten first... it had been a week or so since I have fed... but like I told Lokil, I had patience, and I damn well was going to use it. I took a deep breath and tried to ignore the enticing smell that came with it.

"I will explain a little later." I smiled. "If I told you now, you wouldn't believe me." Or remember.

"A little later? Do you think I plan to-" His voice cut off and he froze, completely still. I saw a sparkle of amber flash on him before he fell to the floor, paralyzed. I glanced behind me to see Vingalmo, his crimson eyes irritated as he lowered his robed arm.

"Just get on with it." He snapped. "We don't have an eternity." I smiled. There was a humorous irony to his words.

I approached the boy's figure, cautious yet excited. I noticed the flush of his skin; it reminded me of my own before I changed. It was a light tannish hue, just like mine had been. Compared to my now snowy complexion, he looked very dark, especially in the shadows. I could hear the beating of his heart, a pounding in my own ears. It made my mouth water how soft and tender it was, pumping its liquid life... I swallowed it back determinedly. I would not feed. It felt different from the normal... it was like my body had betrayed to my hunger that I was going to bite the boy soon, and even with strict denials, the hunger flared in anticipation and an almost rebellious pleasure at the fact that it was going to get what it wanted, no matter what my brain said. It felt confident that my instincts would do what it told them. I took a deep breath and bent down beside the boy. His breath brought a sweet smell of life, and for a second my confidence wavered. What would happen if I did drink his blood? Would Harkon ban me from the Clan? Was this even a chance I was willing to take? But the pull to him was too strong now; I don't think I could have stood up and walked away if I wanted to.

I took his head in my shaking hands and turned it to the side, exposing his neck. The artery stood out, pale blue and throbbing slightly as it delivered its vital cargo. His cheeks under my fingertips felt warm and soft, and my canines filled with venom as they always do when I prepare to feed. I guess my stomach was spreading rumors... And then my teeth were sinking into his throat, and I fell into an old habit. My jaws instinctively tightened around the artery and gently but firmly pushed my canines into it. Blood gushed into my mouth, and I swallowed it, sucking in a breath from my nose and closing my eyes in pleasure as more crimson liquid flowed from the wounds. Somewhere, my conscience was panicking, knowing I had to stop... I finally gained control enough to push my tongue against the puncture wound, slowing the flow of blood. The taste was torturous, but I kept it firmly pressed against the punctures. I would have to work quick; I could feel the small amount of venom that had rubbed off my canines start to close them already. I slowly but deliberately relaxed my tongue slightly so I could slip my tooth into the gap it made. I concentrated on putting pressure on my jaw, contracting the muscles so that the venom started to drip into the small holes. The blood immediately ceased, and I let go of him, shaking. I fell backward onto the floor and pushed myself away. My mouth still tasted of blood, and my throat was burning with my stomach in protest to the mid-meal interruption.

Vingalmo was suddenly next to me, grabbing my arm and steadying me as I trembled and got unsteadily to my feet. He looked down at the boy.

"Good job. Now, come with me, and we can get you cleaned up." His voice was gentle and empathic. If I hadn't been so shaken, I would have shot him a confused look, both for his unusual tone and his selection of words. I didn't think I spilled any blood... He walked me outside and past the guardsman, then across the bridge. He then turned me to face the water, which was reflecting the full moon on its broken ripples. In it, I also saw myself, and I gasped. My hair was a dark scarlet, and the thick, twisted curls falling to my waist swallowed my head so only them and my face were visible from my neck up. Blood had dribbled down my chin (I had obviously been wrong then about spilling none) and onto my armor in deep crimson splatters. My eyes glowed wildly, and as my mouth issued the surprised noise, my fangs gleamed in the moonlight. I looked not like the Saber I knew myself as and was proud of. No, I looked different. More... deadly. If I hadn't been so shaken, I would have admired the lithe grace to my form, but now I just stood gaping at the difference. I suddenly did not feel so small.

I took my arm and swept it across my chin, rubbing off the gore, then dipped it in the silvery water and watched the scarlet substance spread and infect the water like poison. I stood up and faced Vingalmo, a new strength in my muscles. He looked back at me almost wearily, as though he was aware of my sudden vigor and was cautious. Of course, there was no reason he should be.

"When am I going to introduce him to his first meal?" I asked.

" _You_?" He frowned. "You won't do anything of the sort. I have already arranged for a more... disposable vampire to do that part."  
" _What_?" I asked sharply, the newfound power rich in my voice and thick in my chest. "Why?" Vingalmo continued to look at me steadily, unwavered by my less-than-respectful response.

"Because we have had... less than preferable outcomes in the past. The newborn was too hungry, and tried to attack our vampire before he released the prey. As you know, vampire blood is very poisonous to the vampire mouth, and so we lost two possibly valuable vampires. Now, we always use a lesser vampire, or a hired rogue to do the job, then kill them after to tie up "loose ends" and such. It is more proficient that way." I stood there, frustrated at the logic of his answer. There was no good reason for me to attend, even though I desperately wanted to (for reasons unknown to me).

"It will be fine, Saber. He will be okay. He is strong." His words surprised me; the kindness in them. I was so used to the irritable, bossy Vingalmo that I was taken aback by the change. It was like he understood the unconscious connection to the boy, the concern that was unexplainable but as intense as fire. The more I thought about it, the more I became aware of its presence. It almost scared me.

* * *

I decided to do some research on the subject. I searched every book in Harkon's private library on vampires, but found nothing. Finally, I discovered a small paper slid into the middle of Immortal Blood, which fell to the dusty floor airily. As I bent over and picked it up, I recognized it as a research paper on vampires from the College of Winterhold. As I unfolded it, I saw it read this in neatly curvy handwriting:

 _A Theory on Vampires By: Yakahirvi the Apprentice_

 _We all think of vampires as blood-sucking fiends, but what we don't know is who they really are. I have a few theories on them._

 _Theory #1: Blood Lust Vampires are considered undead, no? So what if they are incapable of making new blood for themselves because all of the things required to make blood are gone? They could harvest those materials from other living organism's blood, so they need it to survive._

 _Theory #2: Sunlight Damage Another part of this theory is why the sun affects them so much. I believe that since the vampires do not have much blood, to spread it out throughout their body it must be thinner than normal, and so the sun could possibly start evaporating it through the skin, causing pain, and that is why smoke starts to appear whenever a vampire's bare skin has contact with direct sunlight. This applies to why after feeding the vampire has less to no weaknesses from the sun anymore, as they have harvested the materials needed to create their own blood from another._

 _Theory #3: Eye Color Another part to my theory is why vampires have red eyes. Just as an albino, they are unable to produce melanin, which is the pigment responsible for normal coloration of eyes (and skin, which is probably another reason why vampires are so pale). Without melanin, the light that hits their eyes illuminates the blood vessels in them. Melanin is not transferred through blood and therefore the vampires, having fed or not, eternally have red eyes. The loss of melanin is most likely the same/similar cause that the blood loss had. Some people may argue that vampires' eyes still glow in complete darkness, but that leads to my 4th theory._

 _Theory #4: Night Vision The loss of melanin also affects other things, such as eye development. I believe that the eye actually, with loss of regulation, begins to grow more rods in the eye. This way the color AND night vision remain. But with this comes consequences: there are too many rods and cones. The result is that the pupil actually stretches farther to be able to reach light to all the rods and cones, meaning more light can come through the eye, and thus even in the dark light is still filtering through the eye and would continue to make the eye glow._

 _Theory #5: Fang and Feed Another question most ask is why vampires have fangs. I believe that the diseases (Sanguine Vampiris and Porphyric Hemophilia) naturally grow fangs into the body for easier feeding. In other words, the disease modified itself to grow more efficient tools to drink blood. Another question I myself have pondered is why the bite of a vampire is not fatal. I think that whenever a vampire is ready to feed, the fangs secrete a type of venom, that does not hurt, but closes the wound instantly. This way they can continuously feed on the same prey without them noticing. The venom would be stored right where the tooth meets the gum. Then when the vampire is about to feast (right about when they would salivate about it), the saliva of anticipation dislodges the venom closest to the tooth, causing it to run down and coat the fang. The venom would be rich with excess platelets from the blood of mortals (which explains yet another reason for their unconscious wish for blood). Vampires, I have come to realize, do not heal well after a certain amount of time without feeding. This probably means that about 25% of the platelets in the blood they are sucking out goes to the creation of the venom, which means that cells that were already dangerously low would drop in numbers even lower, specifically platelets._

 _Theory #6: Turned Vampires I believe that the disease they become vampires from is still contagious, and is contracted when the vampire's venom enters the bloodstream and spreads to the rest of the body (there is a 10% chance that the venom coating the tooth when feeding will drip into the bloodstream). Since this venom was manufactured in the vampire's body, I have reason to believe each vampire's venom is unique. Although it all causes the same effect, the sharing of venom causes a bond to form between the vampire and the victim. This bond, however, only forms when a large amount of venom is injected into the bloodstream, more than would normally rub off the fang when feeding. The bond brings the new vampire's maker, or sire, together with the newborn. This pull is because the vampire's venom is attracted to its former home, so it warps the mind of the newborn to want to be with the sire, and vise versa. Vampires who share this bond are commonly known to become mates or companions, and never leave each other's side. If the other dies, the pull disappears and the living vampire is put through excruciating pain as it grieves for its lost venom (or body, depending on which vampire dies). As a result, vampires who are bonded often are quick to stress or worry about the other's safety, for their mind considers it just as it considers its own._

I pressed the parchment ends together, hiding its content. My head was swirling with questions and emotions as I tried to process what I had just read. I hesitated for a moment then replaced the note in its original place in the book, and slid it back onto the wooden shelf. I closed my eyes and rested my head gently against the chestnut frame, my teeth clenched. Nothing made sense anymore, and questions only led to more questions instead of answers. Was I ever going to get them?

* * *

 _AN: Hello again! Sorry this chapter took so long, my laziness is growing I think XD. This one is even shorter than the last haha sorry about that. Anyways, sorry 'bout Lokil's weird hobby lol hope no one is offended. But yeah! I actually wrote these theories in rl just because I was bored and feeling nerdy, so hey why not! And yes Yakahirvi actually does write this paper, but of course you wouldn't know that 'cuz I am not to that point yet. -_- anyways yeah tell me what you think so far! I love to hear my reader's thoughts on how to improve my stuff! I am sure some of you are disappointed in the lack of violence in this one, but just wait, the bloody time will come ;). I guess that is it for now, so bye, and don't forget to favorite and follow me or this story if you like it!_  
 _-Elly_


	3. Chapter 3

"Harkon?" I asked cautiously as I approached the ancient vampire. He looked up from his meal, Breton Cattle, with blood dripping down his chin.

"Excuse me," Harkon wiped the blood away and sat up, regal and proud, higher than I stood. My confidence sputtered a bit. "What do you need, child?"

Normally, being called a child would have irritated me, but he called all the vampires younger than him "child", so I did not feel so defensive about it.

"I..." I bit my lip and let my eyes dart around the room as I struggled with how to word my interrogation. He raised a mildly curious eyebrow at me. I swallowed and tried to control my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"I found a note in your library on vampires... I was wondering if you knew if what the author had said was correct."

"Hm..." I relaxed as Harkon did not appear angry at me for snooping in his books as I had feared.

"I see. Come with me." He rose from his seat and started off towards his library, with me in tow. He approached the shelved volumes as I shut the heavy oak door tentatively, cautious not to make too much noise. The thick slab of wood fell into its frame with a muffled thump.

"Where did you find this note?" He asked mildly, still facing the thousands of books. His hands were clasped thoughtfully behind his back.

I strode up next to him, my eyes at his robed shoulder, and scanned the rows and rows of bound paper, their dusty spines ranging from dull grays to reds to greens. None of them seemed thinner than the width of two of my fingers together. I was searching for a certain color, a dark indigo, with faded gold letters curling into the words Immortal Blood. We spent a minute in silence while I combed through shelf after shelf full of books, some unnamed, some new, some worn. Finally my eyes locked onto the one I needed; it blended in well with the others, and I had skipped over it several times. I reached my arm up to hook a slender finger into the gap between the binding and the cover on the spine, then slid the book out and grasped it in my other hand, pulling it off of it's place and creating a dark gap between its neighbors, The Wolf Queen, Book VI and Beggar. I tugged the piece of paper protruding from the top of the pages in the novel I was holding and handed Harkon the note wordlessly. I was still uncertain if he was angry or not, although he did not appear so.

He unfolded it and swept his eyes across the cursive text. I waited and watched his face, hoping to get a hint of his emotion, but it stayed blank.

"Which part are you wondering about my child?" He asked, his tone polite and thoughtful.

"The part about the venom making it so that the sire and newborn are connected in a way." I clarified. He nodded, and I could tell he was deciding how much he could tell me.

"The mortal," He said cautiously, "only covered part of it. The sire's venom inside the newborn, you see, gets slowly tainted with the newborn's venom in the beginning months of vampirism. At first, when the sire turns the newborn, the newborn's own venom has only begun to develop, so the sire's venom is very clearly separate and distinct in them. However, as time goes on and the newborn's venom matures, the sire's venom becomes less recognizable to the sire themselves. If the sire is around the newborn much in its first few months, it senses these changes and thus the pull towards the newborn continues. However, if the sire abandons the newborn, and does not either ever meet them again or within the next few months, the venom becomes completely unrecognizable to the sire, and thus the pull slowly fades away. That is why you do not have a seperate pull to your own sire; our clan has been very cautious to not let the bond form between our vampires, for if one died the other would be useless in battle for years as they would become extremely depressed as well as in pain, and the risk of death with our lifestyle is high. However, we decided to experiment with this. You will be allowed to harbor your bond with the boy as a test, to see if it is better to keep the connection instead of dispel it. Vingalmo thinks that it will intensify the ferocity of your battles to protect each other. If it works out, then I will arrange for that to be the way we have newborns and sires from now on. If not... well, its impossible to reverse the bond after the newborn's venom is fully developed... so I suppose you will not be here to clean up the mess."

I shuddered at the eerie threat hidden within the last sentence. My head was frantically trying to process all of this new information. I was going to be a test subject for this bond. I was going to die if Vingalmo wasn't right. My sire could be anyone. And if the experiment failed, I would die.

* * *

"Can I at least watch?" I asked Vingalmo. It was an hour before the boy's initiation, and I had been fruitlessly begging Vingalmo to let me introduce him to his prey ever since Harkon and I had returned to the main hall. Vingalmo sighed in response, the little patience he had waning.

"If I let you watch, will you leave me to eat in peace?" I thought for a moment, my head cocked to one side, then bobbed it in consent.

"Good." He growled, and turned to the bloody wrist of the Vampiric Cattle lying on the table in front of him. "You should probably eat before, with the blood and such. Wouldn't want you to ruin his meal."

He made a good point; while I wasn't particularly hungry at the moment, the close call with the boy earlier still made me shudder. I would take no chances.

I turned around and strode to the steps, and while I climbed them tried to decide where I would hunt. Falkreath? No, I had a bit of a bounty there. I would need to leave more time for the guards to forget my looks. Riften? That seemed a bit far, and I didn't really feel like dealing with any Thieves Guild members I may run into. Winterhold? It was a small city, with few witnesses... plus, the Nords always tasted best when laced with frost. I approached the heavy doors of the castle entrance, then pushed them open. Winterhold it was then. I would have to be quick; I only have an hour. The watchman hastily opened the gate for me, and I bid him farewell with a murmured "thanks" and trod over the stone bridge spanning the castle and the Watchtower. My two-inch heeled ebony boots echoed hollowly on the structure. Now I had to face the problem of how to get there within a half hour. I could turn into a Vampire Lord, but I usually preferred to avoid that, as I had to stash all of my belongings (including my armor) away before I transformed, and risk them being stolen. Also, although I did not like to admit it, I thought being in Lord form made me look extremely unattractive; not like that was a great concern of mine, but self-consciousness was never far away at the best of times, let alone when you are a huge grey-skinned flame-haired winged creature. And to add to that, I was not very magic-savvy, so I only had my claws and teeth to rely on should a confrontation occur.

So how do I travel to Winterhold on time? I realized I had already spent 5 minutes contemplating this as I stared out at the Sea of Ghosts. I sighed and, begrudgingly, accepted that I must fly. I hesitantly entered the Watchtower and unbuckled the sheathes for my daggers, the heavy weapons still in them, from my waist and set them in the shadows. I then slid a shiv from my boot and threw it on top of them with a loud clatter. With cautious fingers, I unlatched my black leather quiver from my chest and let it swing from my grasp, its contents also dark, forged from ebony. I set the quiver on top of the pile and then reached for my bow on my back, and detached it from my armor, its hard, heavy form made from the same ore as its arrows. It was set down next to the pile, as I was afraid of it sliding off and becoming damaged. I then sat down on the dusty granite floor and reached down to yank the hard black boots from my feet, then tossed them over to the rest of my belongings before standing up again, now barefoot, and slipping off my armor. Long ago I had lost the awkwardness that first comes with being nude; I accepted it as a natural state, and nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. But I never did lose the feeling of exposure with my skin bare and vulnerable. I always prefered to wear my armor and weapons at all times; even while I slept. So with all of the things that made me feel safe and even dangerous lying on the floor at my feet, I felt a rush of fear and wariness. No one would catch me off my guard.

I took a deep breath and focused on imagining myself splitting into a million pieces and letting the beast inside of me free. I clenched my teeth in concentration and squeezed my eyes shut, putting as much pressure on my brain it hurt. Suddenly, I threw my arms out and my eyes fell into a grey haze as I felt my wings bursting from my back and my whole body shifting and changing around me. Slowly, my vision cleared, and I floated out the door, my feet hovering inches off the ground. I looked around at the pale night, let myself rest my feet on the ground, then lifted my wings and started to run towards the sea. The wind rose the thin grey skin and pushed me off of the ground a few feet. I flapped my wings and steadily gained altitude until I was far above the gleaming waves below me. The air pushed my bloody curls back and felt refreshing on my face. I felt free and weightless, and to emphasize on this, I flew higher and glided over Secunda, then Masser in turn. The pale scene below me changed every time I blinked; from a forest to a mountain to a lake. I looked to the horizon, trying to discern Winterhold, and saw a small city next to a cliff, surrounded by snow and near a large castle-like building. I rapidly approached the city and decided to start banking down. I curved my right wing so it bent the air in a way that turned me in a gentle downwards spiral. I slowly descended onto my grey feet, but when they contacted the snow, I immediately turned back into a human. As the wings folded and disappeared into my back, I crouched down behind a rock and peered cautiously over at the city. Two Stormcloak guards paced in front of the road that led through the ruined town. I honed in my hearing to decipher what they were saying over the howling wind carrying swirling flakes of ice, which had picked up not long after I had landed.

I saw the guards shivering in the freezing temperature which I couldn't feel. The one on my left, a Nord woman, complained to her comrade in a heavy accent,

"This city is hardly worth guarding. Why can't the College just magic up a wall, eh? Not like they would even need it, I have no idea why anyone would be in this cold, let alone to attack. Their joints would freeze up before they raised their axe!"

Her fellow guard, a male Nord with a more gentle voice, responded,

"Be patient, Sister. Our shift is almost over. How about I take you to get some mead at The Frozen Hearth afterwards, and we can thaw out?"

"Alright." She grumbled, then smirked. "But don't expect me to be more than a block of ice by then." There was silence, in which I saw the brother rolling his eyes. Then they faced the road I was next to again, their eyes wary and their hands on their weapons. The woman had an Iron Warhammer while the man had a Steel Mace. It made me smile how weak they looked. I could take them out in a second. But I wouldn't. I would have to choose a victim that was alone; since I only had my teeth as a weapon, I was afraid that I would start feeding as soon as I attacked, and that would leave me open to anyone who was also trying to kill me. So although the scent of the guards was tantalizing, I decided to sneak past them instead.

Normally, I would just stroll past, but since I had no armor, I believe it would be a more awkward situation than I could desire. Also, I could not afford the time it would take to explain myself, for I believed I had little time left. I pressed myself into the snow, letting my skin blend into the pale, glowing surface. I then rolled onto my back and pressed frost into my hair, caking it with snowflakes and turning it a sparkly white with streaks of red. Since it was dark, this would be enough. I wriggled my way into a wide circle around the guards, giving them a large berth. Their sweet scent still flirted with my nose.

I was about halfway to the first building, the Jarl's Longhouse, when I heard a sound behind me. It was a low growling, and by the scent, I could tell it was a wolf. I pressed myself lower to the ground as I heard the guards unsheathe their weapons and start to stalk over.

"Who's there?" The woman called out warily, her accented voice trilling out through the snow. Suddenly, the wolf leapt from its hiding place, a meter or so from me, and landed on her face. Startled, the woman fell onto the powdery ground as the canine tore at her head with its fangs. Her brother brought his mace down onto the wolf's skull, and with a hollow crack, the mace crushed its target and the wolf fell limply onto the woman. I could smell her blood flowing onto the ground, and I could feel the hunger begin to fester in my belly. Her brother shoved the wolf, which was also bleeding, off of his sister and inspected her wounds. She was still alive, barely, and panting through a torn throat. Her face had been mutilated and one of her eyelids was sealed shut with blood. He bent over her, murmuring denial as she reached up to him, her good eye rolling. I saw him scramble to his feet and bolt for the city, shouting for help and leaving his bloody mace lying next to his dying sibling. I spotted my chance, and as soon as he was a safe distance away, I fell upon my prey. She was gushing a thin stream of blood from her open wound, and I could see she was trembling, fighting for breath, and for life. I put my mouth to her neck and let my teeth fix themselves into the edges of the wound, and as I started to feed, her strangled, gurgling scream could be heard for miles.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Vingalmo asked irritably. I nodded, having just returned from my hunting trip and put my belongings on. I was restless to see the boy again, especially for his first kill. Would he use the weapon, or his teeth like I had? I secretly hoped for the teeth; that would mean that he was already accepting of his state, and the less problems we had with him, the better. Also, I hoped that I had channeled some of my talent into him.

"Alright then. Hold still." He drew his hand back, then flicked it at me. A black orb spun from his hand into me, and after the glow faded, I looked down to see nothing where my feet had previously been. When I looked up at another black flash, I saw the same of Vingalmo.

"Come with me." His cold, apparently disembodied voice sounded from where he had been previously standing.

"How will I see you?" I asked uncertainly, shuddering inwardly at the thought that I was speaking to empty space.

"Follow my scent." He said impatiently. "You are a vampire, after all."

"Oh." I said, feeling embarrassed. I hadn't noticed that I could still smell him. My head could only describe it in one way: Vampire, Old, Mage. It gave me a description of him, and a picture in my head, but there was nothing I could relate it to, since like their venom, every vampire's scent is unique. The scent was linked to all my memories of him and crossing where he had trodden.

"Follow me. And for 'Bal's sake, try not to trip on anything." I bared my teeth in indignation, then remembered he couldn't see me and let my lips relax. I took a deep breath and sensed that his scent was starting to become stale, which meant that he had already left with me barely noticing. I quickly focused on where the scent was strongest and followed it until I could tell I was a foot away from the invisible Altmer. I halted at that point.

"Hold on." He said. I noticed we were right at the place where we would turn left to enter the Cathedral. It still smelled strongly of the boy's blood. As Vingalmo fiddled with something -or so I thought he was doing; to be honest I couldn't really tell-, I wondered what the boy's name was. I started as the wall next to me slid into the ceiling with a familiar grinding sound.

"This way." Vingalmo said in his Altmer-ishly high voice. I gritted my teeth at his tone; if only I could wipe that arrogant smirk off his face that was almost certainly there, hiding itself from me. If only I could show both him and Orthjolf that neither of them were best; I was truly worthy to be Harkon's right hand, not those two overconfident old fools. But I knew my place. I still had far to go until I was even close to being his second, and although I was loath to admit it, I respected both of them, for their age and skill. I did, however, respect Vingalmo the slightest bit more.

I walked into the space that the wall had left vacant, treading carefully after Vingalmo's scent. I heard the wall sliding back into place and I shuddered, not a hint of cold touching me. The room was one from old yet fresh memories. In the pale scene produced by my nocturnal vision, I saw a place I had awoken in 7 years ago. A seemingly isolated room with stone on all 6 surfaces around me. And there were people in here too; a vampire I did not recognize, who by the smell did not belong to a clan, and the newborn boy, lying at her feet. The pull to the boy I had begun to ignore and dismiss as normal increased almost painfully, and I clenched my teeth together as my mind unconsciously made me worry for the boy's well being. He looked not much more different than when I had last seen him. His eyes were shut, and he was still outfitted in his Cat-Leather Armor. His skin was much more pale now, but other than that he looked almost identical to his human state, his nearly pearly features relaxed in a peaceful way. He was obviously unaware of the future to come, lost in his euphoric fantasies of fictional serenity and aggrandized realities conjured by unconsciousness. Oh how surprised he will be when he wakes...

I heard the boy let out a low moan, and I flinched, silently scolding myself for my concern. I couldn't help but worry for the boy, and it was becoming increasingly annoying. It made me feel...weak. The newborn's eyes opened to slits, then were suddenly wide-eyed with fear, in all their bloody glory. In a moment he was on his feet, looking warily to his visible company. I silently marveled at his speed and defensive stance. He was obviously a fighter from a young age, just as I had been. His eyes, however, lacked the bloodlust and mistrust mine have been fabled to hold. He seemed the honest man, who would try to see the good in everyone, and only kill if he absolutely had to. The kind of man the Volkihar would leave swinging dead from a tree just to teach him a lesson about the cruel way of life. I had a sinking feeling that Vingalmo didn't make a good choice this time. But I didn't feel any tensity from the elderly Altmer. He was still perfectly calm, despite that I was certain he could not have missed the aura the boy put off. He knew exactly what he was doing, which only unsettled me more.

"Where am I?"

When the boy spoke, his voice was almost toneless, an obvious self-attempt to calm himself down and appear so. But even with his effort, there was an edge to his tone, one of panic and confusion. I was forcefully reminded of his young age; he was really 16, unlike me, who, including years as a vampire, was 23.

"You are here. With me." The mature vampire's red lips smiled cold and taunting at the boy. She wore the same robes as I remembered from my own initiation, the hood up so her features were shrouded. Her scent was also very familiar... I hadn't noticed before, but it reminded me again of when I had laid on the floor at her mercy. I decided that she must be the same person.

"And who are you?" He asked, refusing to relax.

"I believe the most important information here is who you are." I watched the exchange carefully, searching for the first signs of hunger from the boy, and had come up with nothing so far. So far. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, his eyes widened and his knees buckled. He squeezed his eyelids shut and gritted his teeth, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. The woman gave an icy laugh.

"I see you have finally become hungry. About time, I was tiring of our little chat." I silently swore, still harboring curiosity about his name. I heard the boy grit his teeth as he convulsed in pain. I knew he was hurting much more than he let himself show. I still remembered just how excruciating my own experience had been, how the pain had tortured my nerves in unimaginable ways. For the first time in my life, I felt pity for someone without forcing it. I'm not sure if it was just because I was connected to the boy or what, but I suddenly found myself cringing for him. It felt strange, and yet I didn't wish for it to go away. It almost showed me that deep inside I did have the heart to pity someone, and all this time I had just been lying to myself. Being heartless isn't all just looking tough. Some people internally almost pity you for being a monster. Not like this bothered me, in fact the idea of caring for another almost repulsed me, and yet I clung to the warmth my own caring provided. But even if I did have caring emotions, I would have to make sure no one else knew. Better to not look weak in front of people who may become your enemy.

The woman crouched down in front of him, her bright scarlet eyes forcing his to meet them. I heard the boy snarl, the sound resonating from his throat in a threatening way I could never have expected from his former posture. I began to understand why Vingalmo had chosen him.

"I can make all of your pain go away." She whispered, then handed him a single arrow. He responded with just a growl. She stood up and snapped her fingers, and a slab of rock behind her slid up to reveal a female Breton. She was obviously drugged, swaying on her feet.

The boy reacted quickly and suddenly. He leapt forward and stabbed the arrowhead deep into the vampire's neck. She staggered back, obviously caught off guard. When she reached up to feel the wound, her hand came back down soaked in blood. She started shaking violently, and lashed out at the boy, screaming. Her hand hit his cheek, and it left a smeared, sanguine handprint. She then slumped over, and hit the ground with a thump.

The boy walked over and kicked her body, then tore the arrow out. I suddenly remembered what Vingalmo had said earlier, about newborns killing and eating their Introducers. Chills rushed down my spine as I imagined the boy dead, and I almost screamed at him to get away from the body. But the boy merely walked past the dead vampire, with no obvious attempt to feed from it. No, he continued to advance on the Breton.

He looked her in the eye for a minute, whispered something I couldn't hear, then stuck the arrow through her abdomen. Immediately, she fell to the stone floor, blood already pooling around her, soaking her peasant clothes a deep crimson. The boy pushed her onto her back and latched his mouth onto the impalement, still gushing gore. The arrow lay abandoned next to the still-warm corpse, its head covered in pieces of intestines it pulled out. On the floor under it was another, smaller pool of blood, with heaps of pink flesh soaking in it.

The boy, his Saber Pelt now dripping in blood on the front, stood up, wiping his mouth on his wrist. He then grabbed the bloody arrow and held it up to his mouth, running his tongue over its iron point, leaving small streaks of red where there had formerly been liquid gore. He then turned to the carcass of his former prey, and using the head of the arrow, began to cut off small chunks of meat and put them in various pockets of his armor. After about an hour of him hacking away at the corpse, he had all of the victim's body in his pockets, without the bones, intestines, and head. The bare, bloody skeleton sent shivers down my spine. Never before had I seen a dead body displayed before in this manner. Even with all of my familiarity with death, I was horrified at how he just casually set the pieces into his armor, right next to himself.

After he finally completed his gruesome task (his reasons for doing it unknown to me), he stood up. I smelled Vingalmo walking towards the boy, and before I knew it, the boy lay faint on the stone ground. I got shakily to my feet as Vingalmo disabled both of our Invisibility spells and approached the downed newborn. Vingalmo walked right next to the boy and looked down at him, shaking his head.

"W-why did he do that? Cut her up?" I asked cautiously, with a strange suspicion that Vingalmo had known it was a habit of his. One hell of a sick habit.

"I'm not sure. Maybe if you ask him he will tell you." Vingalmo looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with pride. "But isn't he something?" Oh, he was something alright…

He didn't wait for an answer. He just turned back to the boy and murmured, "Soon, Andrillan Benoch, you will be a great clanmate."


End file.
